


Don't Tell Kit

by ManhattanProject



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Kent is drunk and messy, M/M, Prompt Fic, Swoops doesn't play hockey au, rated t for gratuitous swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 12:56:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14020707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ManhattanProject/pseuds/ManhattanProject
Summary: written for the prompt ‘i met you last night when you were drunkenly patting my dog in my backyard at 3 in the morning and when i asked you what the hell you were doing you slurred something about dogs being great and then you threw up on my feet and then fifteen minutes later you were passed out on my couch so that’s why you’re here right now also what the fuck is your name and why were you patting a dog in a stranger’s backyard in the middle of the night’





	Don't Tell Kit

It’s 4:30 in the morning and all Jeff wants to do is collapse in his bed and sleep for forever. He fucking hates bartending, but teaching high school isn’t exactly raking in the dough. The only thing that keeps him from throwing beer at some people is the knowledge that he only has to deal with it for another two months, and then it’s back to the classroom and to students who, if he’s honest, exhaust him about as much as drunk Vegas tourists. 

The house is fairly quiet when Jeff walks in, locking the door behind him and leaving his shoes by the door. Danny is working on his thesis at the kitchen table, headphones in, and Jeff waves to get his attention. “Where’s Charlie at?” 

“I put her out back like five minutes ago,” Danny says. “How was your shift?” 

“Fucking awful like always,” Jeff says with a shrug. “It’s whatever, though, I’m gonna get Charlie and head to bed.” Danny just gives him a hand wave and goes back to his thesis as Jeff opens the back door and whistles for his dog. 

“C’mon Charlie, let’s go!” he calls after a minute when she hasn’t come running for the door. When she still doesn’t appear he sighs, flips on the porch light, and nearly has a heart attack. There’s a short, blond, and seriously fit guy in his backyard petting his dog. 

Jeff steps out into the yard and the guy doesn’t notice him where he’s knelt down and rubbing Charlie’s belly. Jeff doesn’t know if he should be happy that Charlie is a nice enough dog to not bite this guy’s hand off, or if he should be concerned that his dog doesn’t care that there’s some strange guy in her backyard. 

“Do I know you?” Jeff says when he gets within a few feet of the stranger. The guy jumps and twists to face him, grin on his face. He’s got on a tank top, bright yellow swim trunks, and a backwards snapback over his blond hair and Jeff feels like he knows him from somewhere, but he can’t place it. 

“Dude have you seen this dog? I think I’ve actually been blessed,” the guy says, words slurring together. He pushes off the ground with his hands and stumbles a bit before righting himself and continuing to pet Charlie, whose tail is wagging, tongue out.

“Yeah, that’s my dog. What the fuck are you doing?” 

He laughs and pats Jeff on the arm before dropping a sloppy kiss to Charlie’s head. “I just, I fucking love dogs. You know? They’re great, don’t tell Kit I said that,” he says. Or at least, that’s what Jeff thinks he said, because the guy is kind of really fucking drunk and it’s hard to understand what he’s saying. 

Before Jeff can respond, the guy’s face is going pale and then he’s throwing up all over Jeff’s fucking feet. 

“Ugh, shit, I hate vodka,” he says after a few moments, bringing his hand to his head. 

“Alright, how about we get you some water,” Jeff says, putting his arm on the stranger’s shoulder to guide him toward the house. He makes a quick stop at the spigot to rinse off his feet and then opens the door and ushers drunk guy inside. 

Danny looks up from where he’s still sitting at the kitchen table and immediately pulls out his headphones. “Is it just me or is Kent Parson in my fucking living room right now?” 

“Who the fuck is Kent Parson?” Jeff says, herding the drunk guy toward the kitchen so he can get him some water. 

“You have really nice arms,” drunk guy says with a grin as he accepts a bottle of water from Jeff. “Oh wait, I’m Kent Parson.”

“Still don’t know what that means, but okay,” Jeff says, ignoring the comment about his arms. Danny opens his mouth to say something but Kent interrupts him. 

“Fuck, I feel so fucking dizzy,” he says, leaning against the counter in an attempt to stay upright. 

“How ‘bout you go sit on the couch?” Jeff says, sticking his arm around Kent when he nods and helps him walk to the couch, where the shorter guy flops onto it, snapback falling off his head and onto the floor. 

“You have nice arms and a pretty face,” Kent mumbles before closing his eyes.  

Jeff doesn’t know how to respond so he just says, “Don’t throw up on my fucking couch,” and walks back over to Danny. 

“Dude, what the hell is going on,” Danny says, voice low so Kent can’t hear. 

“He was in the backyard petting Charlie, I don’t fucking know, man,” Jeff says, running his hand through his hair. “Shit, I left Charlie outside, hang on.” Jeff lets Charlie inside and she immediately runs for the couch and nudges Kent’s hand with her nose. He laughs and starts petting her, mumbling some stuff that Jeff isn’t sure are actually words. 

“How did you know who he is?” Jeff asks Danny. Danny stares at him like he’s a grown a second head, and Jeff raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“He’s the captain of the Aces, dumbass. You know, the guy who just won the fucking Stanley Cup and whose face is plastered over half the buses in the city?” 

“Please tell me you’re lying to me.”

“Swear on my mom’s life, man. I’d know that face anywhere.” 

“Fuck. What the fuck,” Jeff says. He scrubs his hand over his face and looks over to where Kent is laying on the couch. “Pretty sure he’s passed out. Kent Parson is passed out on my couch.” 

“Well I’m going to bed,” Danny says. “I’m gonna wake up and realize I had a weird thesis induced fever dream.” Jeff doesn’t respond and Danny disappears up the stairs, leaving him alone with a blacked out NHL player. He sighs and walks over to Kent, adjusting his head so he won’t choke on his own vomit, and heads for the stairs, flipping the lights off as he goes. 

Charlie follows him up to the bedroom and Jeff shuts the door, stripping out of his clothes and falling into his bed. At this point he’s too exhausted to care about taking a shower and putting clean clothes on. As soon as his head hits the pillow he’s as gone as Kent is downstairs.

 

\--

 

When Jeff wakes up in the morning it takes a minute for last night to come flooding back to him, but when it does he drops his head back onto the pillow and groans. He checks his phone and makes a face when he sees the house chat has blown up.

[5:01]Danny: fyi matt and jason theres a drunk nhl player passed out on the living room couch dont wake him up and dont wake me up when u see him  
[6:35]Matt: i thought u were working on ur thesis not partying but that sounds like something ud say while high  
[6:40]Matt: ok nvm theres truly a one kent parson on the couch rn what happened  
[6:41]Matt: u cant just not explain this shit wtf  
[7:11]Jason: i dont know who this dude is but i really need the deets danny please  
[7:15]Danny: ur lucky i got up to piss he got drunk and threw up on jeff thats all i know and im going back to bed   
[7:16]Matt: jeff isnt gonna b up for ages this is so fucking unfair  
[7:17]Jason: jeff  
[7:17]Jason: jeff please

Jeff rolls his eyes and types out a quick message telling them he’ll explain later and hauls himself out of bed. It’s only 11 and he’d actually like to go back to bed but he doesn’t want to be asleep when Kent wakes up - if he isn’t awake already. 

When he gets downstairs he finds Kent in the same position he’d left him in last night so he makes some coffee, hoping the caffeine will make him feel a little less groggy. He’s glad he doesn’t have to work tonight, for more reasons than one. 

“I smell coffee. Who are you?” Jeff turns around and sees a bleary-eyed, grimacing Kent leaning against the island.

“Jeff. The guy you threw up on last night,” he responds, and Kent just stares at him. 

“Fuck. I don’t remember anything. No, I remember leaving Larder’s place to take a walk for some reason, and finding a dog, but then nothing after that,” Kent says.

“That’d be my dog you found. Who’s Larder?” Jeff says.

“Can we uh, continue this conversation after you point me to the bathroom?” Kent says. Jeff shrugs and shows him where the bathroom is and Kent locks himself inside. Jeff puts some Advil and a bottle of water on the counter for when he gets back; he figures the guy probably has a raging hangover after getting blackout drunk.

“I fucking love you, dude,” Kent says when he returns, swallowing the pills dry and draining the water bottle. “Sorry about throwing up on you.” 

“It’s happened before,” Jeff shrugs. “In both my jobs, actually.”

“Both your jobs?”   


“I’m a high school bio teacher and I bartend in the summer,” Jeff says, and Kent raises his eyebrows in surprise. 

“Seriously? You’ve been thrown up on in both of those?” 

“You’d be surprised at how much some kids don’t like dissection labs,” Jeff says, cracking a smile. Kent laughs and slides into one of the stools at the counter. 

“I seriously don’t remember anything from last night, but I’m sorry about clearly commandeering your couch,” Kent says. He has enough decency to look sheepish about it. 

“It’s fine, man. Weirder shit happened in college. Besides, I think you had every right to get wasted last night, eh?” Jeff says, and Kent freezes. 

“You know who I am?” he asks. Jeff recognizes the panic in his voice and he tries to school his face into something neutral to prevent some kind of freak out. 

“Honestly? Not really. My roommate knew who you were, but I’m not a hockey fan. I saw the game though, it was playing at the bar while I was working. Fucking customers went crazy when you won,” he says.

“You’re seriously chill about this whole situation,” Kent says. It’s probably true; going to college in Las Vegas had seriously desensitized him to weird shit and strangers showing up in your space, which was theoretically a problem but in this case kind of chill. Jeff wasn’t about to say that Kent wasn’t absurdly attractive and definitely his type (which, Jeff thinks, is only half true. He doesn’t have a type, he’s just really gay).

“That’s just my personality. And my Canadian genes,” Jeff says with a grin. 

“You telling me you’re Canadian and not a hockey fan?” 

“Nah, I’m more a soccer guy, actually.” Jeff’s heard that one a million times since moving to the states, but oddly enough it doesn’t piss him off coming from Kent. 

“I was afraid you were gonna say football,” Kent says with a laugh. “I feel really bad about this whole thing, though, seriously. You’re a cool guy, I would’ve loved to meet you in, well, a less embarrassing situation.” 

“You know, if you wanted to take me to dinner and a soccer game to make up for it I wouldn’t be opposed,” Jeff says, and Kent freezes. There’s silence for a beat and Jeff flushes. “Okay, so you’re a no homo drunk, got it.” Clearly he’d read things wrong, which wouldn’t be the first time, but still. It doesn’t ever get less embarrassing.

Kent stares at him for a second and then shakes his head. “No, I’m uh, I’m gay. I’m surprised you didn’t hear about that ‘scandal’, actually. But anyway it’s not that, it’s just that I’m, well, famous.” 

Jeff just stares at him until he realizes what he means. Which, fair, honestly. Kent probably deals with people looking to leech off his fame all the damn time. 

“Gotta be real, I literally couldn’t care less about hockey, and cameras scare me. So I mean, it’s up to you, but I give you my word I’m not trying to sell you out or some shit.” 

“Harsh,” Kent says, but he’s smiling. “Are you free Saturday then? The Lights are playing, I can probably get tickets.” 

“I can be,” Jeff says, and Kent grins. He gives Kent his number and notices the other guy wince when he checks his phone. “Horde of people looking for you?”

“You could say that. I should probably head back to Larder’s before they file a missing on me,” Kent says. Jeff just chuckles and walks him up to the front door. 

“I’ll text you later. Thank you, and I am seriously sorry again.”

“It’s fine, just don’t get killed by a mob of worried teammates,” Jeff says, and Kent just laughs and gives him a little wave before heading to the sidewalk and going a few houses down. 

When Jeff gets back inside he heads towards the stairs, sleep on his mind, but stops by the living room when something black and red catches his eye. It turns out to be Kent’s hat that had fallen off last night, and he texts Kent to tell him he’d forgotten it. He’s climbing back into bed when his phone buzzes with a response. 

[11:51]Kent: keep it, bet it’d look good on you (;

**Author's Note:**

> just a quick something i threw together, not beta read so all mistakes are mine.  
> i wrote entirely too much backstory for a 2300 word oneshot and honestly? i'm not even sorry


End file.
